Page 1 of Perfect Tragedy
1
There are moments in life that define time and space. Moments so significant that suddenly everything else becomes about before it and after it.It’s crazy that when they’re happening, we’re clueless about how momentous the situations will be.Honestly, I’m still not sure which hit harder, my head when it smacked against the ground upon falling from the large sycamore tree in my front yardor the reaction to meeting the dark-haired, green-eyed boy that caused my fall. After that day everything became about before I met Blake and after - the moment truly defining my life, forever.
Thinking back on that day will always make me smile. The excitement, the innocence, the energy. What I wouldn't give to have the same energy I had as a nine-year-old child. I can still see myself running through my yard, grass in need of a mowing tickling my ankles while I’m completely focused on my destination. Sun warms my face and there's a breeze in the air making the wisps of hair that have fallen out of my ponytail stroke my cheeks. I can't help the laugh that bubbles up from within me, the excitement unable to be contained. My brother’s binoculars, taken from his room without permission, bounce against my chest like a drum of doom pounding out the trouble I'm sure to be in when he finds out. But taking them was necessary, important even, I remind myself in a self-justifying way.
When I reach the large sycamore tree at the edge of our property, I begin climbing up the wood planks that are nailed to the trunk creating a makeshift ladder, enthusiastically. The bark scrapes my knees and leaves traces under my fingernails as I climb pulling myself higher until I reach the bottom of the treehouse my dad built. Pushing up the bottom, I pull myself up and inside, quickly closing the hatch. Moving the few steps to the window, I look through the leaves partially obscuring my vision and quickly put the binoculars up to my eyes and peer over at our neighbor's house, squinting when the sun momentarily blinds me and makes me see spots.
Squeezing my eyelids open and closed a few times, I shake my head attempting to make the spots disappear before peering through the binoculars yet again. My eyes move over the tops of the wheat field, the ripening heads of wheat swaying in the wind like they’re dancing to music only they can hear. When my eyes finally find what they’ve been searching for, I view the house next door. A little squeak leaves me when I see what I’ve been waiting for - a moving truck.
When old Mr. Leonard, the previous owner, kicked the bucket, it was all anyone in our small town talked about for days. You would have thought his passing was a scandal for all the attention it caused, rather than just an old man that had no one in his life. Because of that, it took them several days to find him after he died. It didn’t take long before the next topic up for discussion was who would purchase his home when it went up for sale. A pretty yellow house with white shutters on an acre property, it was sure to be a treasure for some lucky family. My favorite thing about the house was the bright red front door that perfectly matched the big barn situated in the back. I also happened to know from personal experience that one of the best tree swings could be found in their back yard. I begged my dad to hang one from our tree, but he said the poor tree already had a house in it; what more did we want.
With a sigh I lower the binoculars from my eyes when I don’t detect any movement around the property and turn to grab one of the folding chairs. Placing it in front of the window I take a seat, my eyes peeled on the house, and think about the day my mom came back from the hair salon, Serenity, after having had a stylish hair cut, with the big news. Mom told dad that her hairstylist, Anna, heard from a client of hers, who heard from the friend of the town’s real estate agent Grady’s cousin, that the house had finally sold. Our attention spiked; Jack and I consumed every word of their conversation. Each day after, we’d hoped to find out the answer to the big question: will there be any kids our age that will finally live next door?
The suspense may very well kill me. My knee bounces up and down and I chew on my nails while placing the binoculars back to my eyes and do another perfunctory sweep of the property. Still nothing. I wonder how long it will take Jack to figure out where I am. Not long I imagine. There’s only a few places he’d need to look. I love my brother, he’s my best friend, but our relationship is fairly one-sided. All we ever do is play whatever he wants to play and do whatever he wants to do. Video games, tag, nerf guns, building a fort, army men, or throwing around a football are some of his favorites. I take pride in the fact that I can do anything a boy can do, if not better (well some things for sure) but sometimes when I’m alone in my room I like to do what Jack calls ‘girly things’. I pretend I’m a princess in a deep sleep waiting for a kiss from her prince. I pretend I’m a ballerina on stage with lights displaying every move I make while an audience watches with bated breath. Other times I’ll turn on some music and have a dance party or put on makeup and my mom’s high heels and pretend I’m a runway model. One time Jack caught me and teased me for days. My cheeks still flush red when I think about it.
Jack and I have spent days making sure we tuned into our parents’ boring conversations for any news about our new neighbors. We’ve spent hours discussing if there would be kids, if they’d be our ages, practicing how we should introduce ourselves, determining the first game we’d play. And then this morning I finally heard the magic words “moving truck.” I immediately ran to Jack’s room and tried to wake him, but he just groaned at me and rolled over. Not willing nor patient enough to wait, I wasted no time grabbing his binoculars and coming here on my own. If you snooze you lose. He’ll be mad for sure, but being able to brag that I knew something he didn’t will be worth it.
It’s as if the thought alone brings him to me. “Sienna!”
Jumping in my seat guiltily, I immediately take the binoculars and hide them under a couple of blankets in the corner.
“Sienna!”
“What?” I lean out the window and look down seeing him standing at the bottom of the tree with his hands on his hips.
“I can’t believe you didn’t wake me!”
“I tried!”
He scoffs.
“I did!” I declare and stomp my foot for emphasis.
“Well you didn’t try very hard then.”
“Did too,” I argue.
He grumbles and I hear him start climbing up the tree to join me. “I knew as soon as I heard mom and dad talking about the new neighbors that I’d find you here.”
“Well duh. What do you want, an award?”
I catch the roll of his eyes as he comes through the hatch. He leaves it open and moves to stand next to my chair.
“Well, do you see anyone or what? Tell me what’s going on.”
“No, I haven’t seen anyone. The truck is there though.”
“Hm, maybe the moving truck got here first and the family will come later or something, but that’s good.”
“Why is that good?”
“Because mom said I had to come get you and we need to go do our chores.”
“What? Now?” I whine.
“Yep, come on, she wasn’t messing around. She had her serious face on.”
I sigh, “But we might miss something.”
